On a lighter note...

Because of yesterday's super depressing post, I figure I have to follow up with a happiness and light update.  To get things rolling...

Brent and Laura came in at Thanksgiving, and we all took the boys to the aquarium.  They had a blast.

Clint's aunt made Kai this hat on the off chance we would have a cold day this winter.  Guess we will just have to put it in the curio cabinet as an ode to what might have been.

We got a new camera at Christmas, so my goal is to become a photographer extraordinaire.  This was my first shot.  Not too bad if I do say so myself.  If the subjects stay veeeerrrrryyyyy still, I think I can be amazing.

There isn't a particular story with this shot.  I just think it's cool.  (Well, besides that strange lady in the background...)  That's not true.  There is a story.  This is the first day we took Kai to the park that he actually climbed the ladders and went down the slides totally on his own.  It was a huge accomplishment for his playground-cautious nature.  He hasn't had that first big playground fall yet, but my heart did stop a few times.  I am fond of all his limbs and teeth, so I am hoping they aren't casualties.  

It's amazing all the things I DON'T take pictures of.  Clint and I went to Orlando without Kai after Christmas.  Not a single picture.  We also went to the FSU vs Notre Dame game.  Not a single picture.  Christmas.  Not. A. Single. Picture. Maybe the new camera will remedy that.  

Some days...

Some days it's really hard to be a teacher.  Not in the grading papers, attending meetings, making copies kind of way, but in the heartbreaking grief kind of way.  The way that leaves your soul bare and your reserves exhausted.  We lost a student last week-not one that currently attends West, but one that we let go just  a mere seven months ago.  He took his own life.  He took his own life.  There is no real reason to repeat that except as an attempt to wade through the actuality.  So, yeah, we lost a student.  The kids came in the doors, and there we were to greet them and do our best at walking them through the first day of the rest of their now very different lives.  It's a pretty tall order.  It's not having the words; it's not being able to fix the broken; it's feeling such sorrow yourself that you don't even have what it takes to fake a conversation.  Some days it's really hard to be a teacher.